Bad Karma? DISCONTINUED
by L'Archange
Summary: From Christine's deed, bad Karma was bound to follow her. Poor Kristianne, if she only knew why the real Angel of Music chose HER to assist Christine to create good Karma before it's too late. And what of Erik? Christine must learn to love him. But how?
1. A Phantom of the Apartment

**A/N: Okay, here's my attempt at an idea I've had recently. This chapter is a hint of what's to come, and I hope it's interesting. Please let me know what you think.

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Bad Karma**

**A Phantom of the Apartment**

Stretching all of her still-sore muscles down to the tiniest ones in her toes, a flushed Kristianne turned over, with a soft, placated smile on her rosy lips; golden tendrils slung across eye-lids that refused to open. Oddly enough, she felt quite well rested, and found herself to be awake before her alarm had a chance to go off. She was lying there in contentment, waiting for her mind to fully awaken; emotional remnants the only clues of yet another pleasant dream that was elusively drifting about in her subconscious mind.

After releasing a sigh of defeat from knowing she had to get up, her eyes opened to focus on the violin case propped against the side of her bed, then moved to the scribbled word "FRAGILE" on one of the many boxes she had neglected to unpack the night before. She dispassionately recalled that there were also a few boxes in the corner by the door, and that she would have to finish unpacking when she got home from her auditions that day.

_My alarm hasn't gone of… it must be before seven…_

Taking her time, she sat up and stretched her neck, unable to stifle a deep yawn. When out of curiosity, her eyes wandered to the alarm clock, the remaining drowsiness was instantly replaced with sheer panic upon seeing that its digital display was blank.

Her naturally wide blue eyes widened even more in apprehension.

_How…?_

Instinctively from a most recent experience, she sprang to her feet to reach for the cord, and yanked on it to see if it was plugged into the wall. When she was able to pull it all the way out with ease and the end of it dangled in front of her, her jaw dropped.

_Not again!_

What time was it?

Sprinting into the kitchen, she looked up at the pizza-clock and panicked all the more when she saw what its imitation pepperoni face showed her.

_Eight-fifteen??_

As she sprang into her morning routine, Kristianne recalled the first time it had happened, but two days prior and thought that perhaps she had somehow pulled it out while moving furniture about in her new apartment. But this second time was beyond her rational reasoning.

In truth, there had been many strange occurrences in Kristianne's recent experiences that she had simply treated as fluke. She would often find herself lucking out; having obtained the job she wanted; getting the apartment she yearned for; beginning with exams being rescheduled in high school; all from whims, fancies and silent wishes. Nowadays she had considered that perhaps someone or something was listening?

_How ridiculously childish!_

Shrugging off this entire instance with more important things to think about, she put on her jacket and locked her door. It was when Kristianne had arrived in the elevator lobby that she mentally kicked herself for having forgotten the one thing she needed – her violin. It would have been rather embarrassing to show up at the auditions without it. Grumbling to herself, she retrieved it, along with her mp3 player, before leaving in more of a huff than before.

Just as she reached the lobby again, with the buds of the ear phones now in her ears, she reached a finger to call the elevator, only to have the doors directly in front of her slide open before she even had the chance to press the button.

_I must have pressed it before…yes, that's it._

But the strange things didn't stop there. This would just be the start.

The auditions were being held in an old structure no more than two blocks away. It was a good thing, Kristianne thought, that she wouldn't have to wait for a bus this time. The butterflies that always formed under these circumstances could easily be thwarted by physical activity – having to hurry was an especially welcome distraction for her.

The biting chilly wind of late autumn was also comforting. It meant that she wouldn't arrive with beads of sweat rolling off her face.

On her initial audition with this orchestra, she thought that she was going to throw up on the Music Director's shoes. At that point she was still living with her parents, and her dad made sure that she had gotten up on time. With time to spare then, she had gotten dressed at a mild speed and even had time to fit in a practice beforehand.

_It's a good thing I got a good practice in last night before zonking out…!_

After having waited in a dim room with a couple of cellists who happened to be twin girls, and a flautist with an upturned nose that kept glaring at her, it was her turn to go into the great room, to face the three people seated so nonchalantly at a table.

_This is no different than before…just play your piece…_

As she raised the instrument to her chin, she realized that this wasn't at all like the time before. She had spoken with the Music Director in person though he hadn't been at her first audition.

Now, he was seated there in the corner, as no doubt this was the final round of auditions. Perhaps looking at his tall, lithe form - a graceful shape half shrouded in shadow, seated at the back corner of the room that calmed Kristianne; or perhaps it was how he was leaning against the wall, with his left elbow on the table…

It felt like time stopped in the moment she observed him there, mesmerized by how elegantly his long fingers were holding that pen. There was something astoundingly imperious about him; an enchanting sort of arrogance in his air…it seemed strangely familiar…

Good, that diverted her wracked nerves to loosen somewhat.

Even though Kristianne's fingers still shook ferociously, and her heart was pounding in her ears in a rhythm completely unlike the piece she began to play, her concentration took her beyond the physical, into a realm of trance, of glorious, sweet music.

She wasn't seeing the gazes of the judges or how often and at what point they made notes. Nor was the Music Director's intense stare visible, though she could feet it pierce a hole through her.

The bow slid across the string for the last time, the ultimate, resonant note's bittersweet vibrato ending the song. Sooner than Kristianne expected it, the piece was finished, and its echo stirred her out of her wistful stupour. With shaky fingers she removed her violin, grasping her instrument numbly with clammy hands, hesitantly looking up toward her jury.

The older man with hair that must have been a flaming red in his youth but was now streaked with silver spoke, but a silky voice from the back of the room interrupted.

"Thank you Miss Délouvier–"

"Do you know any other piece, Miss Délouvier?"

Kristianne thought she heard an accent there, but couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

"Uh…yes. I know a few others."

"Do you know any old French folk songs?" The Music Director spoke again, this question evidently enticing odd looks to be exchanged between the three shapes sitting closer to her.

"Yes…"

"Play one," commanded the silky voice from the shadows.


	2. The Angel of Music

**Bad Karma**

**The Angel of Music**

It was about noon when Kristianne returned from the audition, and realized she was hungry when, while removing her coat, she found her uneaten, wrapped-up croissant from that morning in her pocket.

The last thing she wanted to do was think about how the auditions went. Due to the fact that she had never experienced such an odd one, Kristianne didn't know what to think. Had it gone well?

The Music Director seemed pleased enough with her playing. Yet even though she didn't consider herself to be superstitious, the positive impression could have been off and she didn't want to get her hopes up only to be disappointed to find out that she was mistaken.

The television was on, and her freshly-made tea was practically scolding her fingers but she was much too spaced out to notice either. There was something familiar about the man in the shadows…maybe he reminded her of a character she read about? Or perhaps someone on television? No…

Having finished her tea and croissant, Kristianne rolled off the couch and forced herself to face the boxes she needed to unpack. As motivation, she recalled how lucky she had been to have gotten the apartment, and then also recalled how oddly the Property Manager's assistant had acted when calling her with the good news. She was much too happy to question how she had managed to get to the top of the waiting list.

The first thing she did upon entering her room was to plug her alarm clock back into the wall and then adjust it to the correct time. There was no way she could be late the next day, as it was her first day at work and being late would give a horrible impression. The old couple in the music store liked her well enough, and she didn't want to tarnish her reputation, especially so early on.

What she really liked about that place was that they sold old things; LP's of decades before, and even some Classical music and Opera on vinyl. The atmosphere just felt like home to her – she could listen to anything she wanted as she worked to organize their database on the website she was to design and upkeep.

Moving at a good pace, Kristianne managed to unpack eight boxes before feeling as though she had done enough. They were fair-sized too, so at this rate, she could be completely settled into the apartment in just a couple more days. There was still the kitchen stuff to unpack, but she wanted to wipe out the cupboards before that.

As she sat for a moment on her bed, her mind wandered back to the auditions and the strange, poised man who had requested for a French folk song. A small cool chill swept by her to that thought, the hairs on her neck standing on end. Glancing over to the window as the only explanation to the breeze, she was surprised to see it was closed... Perhaps it was her imagination!

It was a small urge at first, one which blossomed into a greater need in a matter of seconds, to practice that piece again. Something made her want to relive that piece as she stood there, playing just for him. It had been years since the strings had sung that piece; her heart remembered the first time she had heard it, long ago, but could not place when.

Retrieving her violin from the hall and placing it onto her bed, she opened her case and reached for the auburn instrument, tracing its wooden grain beneath the glossy polish endearingly.

Gently, she raised the instrument, breathing in its wooden scent, and took a deep breath before sweeping the bow to begin her song. Lost in the music, she played on without ending it, looping the weeping melody. The motions became hypnotic, and she saw herself…no not herself, someone else – a man, a tall, slender shape, all in black, in a be-shadowed cavernous place…

Yet again, she lost herself in the music, and hadn't noticed the strange, calm wail accompanying her playing. It was tender and gentle, effortlessly gliding and winding with the melody she was producing. Much too entranced by the beautiful sound of this other instrument, her rational mind was lulled into idleness.

Only when she felt another chilly breeze on her cheek did she snap out of this reverie, abruptly lifting the bow and ending the music. Her heart was pounding like a drum against her rib cage and she felt as though she had just been woken up from a deep sleep.

_What the…?_

A deep rumbling from her stomach distracted her enough to regain her rationality and she shrugged off the occurrence as a trick of her mind from her preoccupation with that strange, captivating man. With hands that trembled terribly (which she attributed to her lack of nourishment that day), she put her violin away after lovingly caressing it yet again.

Now, feeling quite exhausted, she was happy with what was completed for the day, and she sat down at the television again, reaching underneath a pile of scraps of doodles, notes and music scores to retrieve the phonebook. She flipped through it eagerly, ignoring the increasing dark ink on her finger pads, to find a place that delivered Thai food at ten so she could quench her cravings.

\/O\/O\/O\/O\/O\/O\/O\/O\/O\/O\/O\/O\/O

It was sometime around four in the morning that Kristianne was torn from deep sleep, quite rudely stirred awake by a blaring light that had suddenly appeared at the foot of her bed. Still dazed, her sleepy eyes blinked to focus on the shape that stood there, as she tried to cover them from the extent of the painful luminosity before her.

"Rise and shine! Good Morning!" Shrieked a youthful, female voice from the form ahead of Kristianne, which then went on to lift its arms excitedly.

Upon her eyes adjusting to this bright sight, Kristianne just gawked, unable to comprehend what was occurring. Slowly, the sleep in her mind was replaced in lightning speed by fright.

"What the H–"

The shape instantly whipped a visible finger into the air warningly, stopping Kristianne from finishing. As the girl in the bed continued to gape, the shape ahead approached, sat on the edge of her bed and began to lose some of its incredible glow.

When the glow had mostly vanished, what remained was a girl that appeared to be about thirteen, with small, curly, bright-blonde pig-tails and dimple-encrusted grin. She wore a white gown, trimmed in silver and gold embroidery, and she watched Kristianne nonchalantly while dangling her feet off the edge of the bed.

"Hi Kristianne!"

Kristianne's stare intensified in frightened disbelief as she observed the girl still seated, staring back at her. Now, her rational mind could only observe that the girl with the dull glow before her resembled a life-size nightlight.

The mystery-girl pursed her perfectly-shaped lips, making those dimples visible again. Locking gazes, the two of them sat this way as though it were a staring contest until Kristianne dared to speak.

"Wh-who are you?"

Something told Kristianne she would regret the question.

Looking rather relieved, the girl sitting across from Kristianne released an enormous sigh, "Oh, I thought you would never ask! Why, I'm the Angel of Music!" This so-called Angel raised her chin as if proud of this title, while her glow brightened a bit with this proclamation.

"The…Angel…of…Music…?" Kristianne echoed dumbly, now questioning her own sanity.

"Yes." Was the simply reply.

To this, Kristianne gave her another once-over, and attempted to make her brain digest the surreal circumstances she was facing.

It was rather hard.

"And…?"

The Angel looked at her in puzzlement, narrowing her eyes like a curious child, "And what?"

"What is it that you want from me?"

This supposed Angel stared at her blankly at first, and then abruptly, as though she just remembered, her little face brightened, "Oh yes! That! Well, I have been sent to give you a message: I am to be your guardian for a most challenging path of tribulations ahead."

This was followed by a rather awkward silence.

When the Angel surmised her explanation lacked clarity somewhat, she went on to elaborate, "I'm here to guide you while you go away to face a very important undertaking."

If you thought the previous moment was awkward, it was even worse this time when Kristianne responded with a pure look of bewilderment.

"You've been chosen for a task of leading a man to his destiny."

"Um, could you be any less vague?" Kristianne's crankiness was getting harder and harder to hold back.

To this the cherub furrowed her little brow, crossed her cute little seraph arms, and managed to groan out, "You have to help him find love."

"Help who?"

"It's help "whom" and I can't tell you that."

"Are you here to give me lessons on grammar or to assign me to a mission?"

The angel looked slightly teed at this remark though easily managed to quickly plaster a frightfully pleasant smile on her dimpled face, "I won't even dignify that with a reply."

_This is surreal…_

Kristianne's eyes almost popped out of her head in an attempt to wake herself up. When that didn't work, she asked in resignation, "Okay…why me?"


End file.
